24 Hour Party People (2002) - IMDb IMDb There was an error trying to load your rating for this title. Some parts of this page won't work property. Please reload or try later. X Beta I'm Watching This! Keep track of everything you watch; tell your friends. Error 24 Hour Party People ( 2002 ) R | In 1976, Tony Wilson sets up Factory Records and brings Manchester's music to the world. Director: From $2.99 (SD) on Amazon Video ON DISC a list of 46 titles created 25 Jan 2011 a list of 44 titles created 30 May 2011 a list of 23 titles created 05 Mar 2012 a list of 24 titles created 26 Jan 2013 a list of 37 titles created 9 months ago Title: 24 Hour Party People (2002) 7.4/10 Want to share IMDb's rating on your own site? Use the HTML below. You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin. 1 win & 13 nominations.

See more awards » Photos A profile of Ian Curtis, the enigmatic singer of Joy Division whose personal, professional, and romantic troubles led him to commit suicide at the age of 23. Director: Anton Corbijn Five friends spend one lost weekend in a mix of music, love and club culture. Director: Justin Kerrigan A chronological account of the influential late 1970s English rock band. Director: Grant Gee Morbid biographical story of Sid Vicious, bassist with British punk group the Sex Pistols, and his girlfriend Nancy Spungen. When the Sex Pistols break up after their fateful US tour, ... See full summary » Director: Alex Cox Director Michael Winterbottom (Northam) attempts to shoot the adaptation of Laurence Sterne's essentially unfilmable novel, "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman." Director: Michael Winterbottom Edit Storyline Manchester 1976: Cambridge educated Tony Wilson, Granada TV presenter, is at a Sex Pistols gig.

Totally inspired by this pivotal moment in music history, he and his friends set up a record label, Factory Records, signing first Joy Division (who go on to become New Order) then James and the Happy Mondays, who all become seminal artists of their time. What ensues is a tale of music, sex, drugs, larger-than-life characters, and the birth of one of the most famous dance clubs in the world, The Hacienda - a mecca for clubbers as famous as the likes of Studio 54. Graphically depicting the music and dance heritage of Manchester from the late 70's to the early 90's, this comedy documents the vibrancy that made Mad-chester the place in the world that you would most like to be. Written by IGB The unbelievably true story of one man, one movement, the music and madness that was Manchester.

Genres: Rated R for strong language, drug use and sexuality | See all certifications » Parents Guide: 20 September 2002 (USA) See more » Also Known As: 24 ores gemates rock See more » Filming Locations: £265,428 (UK) (5 April 2002) Gross: Did You Know? Trivia The movie was shot on video and then processed in post production to give it the look of film See more » Goofs The Haçienda's last night of operation wasn't a rave night as seen in the film. It was actually a performance by the English space rock band Spiritualized. The building was used for two parties after the club officially closed. See more » Quotes [first lines] Tony Wilson : Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's the latest craze sweeping the Pennines, and I've got to be honest, I'd rather be sweeping the Pennines right now.

Written by Paul Klein, Joe Stone and Lawrence Julian Published by Chrysalis Music Ltd Performed by DSK Worth multiple viewings and a little homework 24 June 2003 | by DestroyTheFives – See all my reviews I get the general sense from reading some of the reviews that people didn't like this movie because it didn't provide any instant gratification or personal meaning. That's probably true for people who don't know Joy Division, New Order, or the Happy Mondays, but I think it's totally unfair to discredit this film on a basis of a lack of prior knowledge. Many great films and novels aren't great because you get them on the first try, and I think that this movie follows the same path. If you didn't like it the first time, take a look at an old Tony Wilson interview or a concert tape of Joy Division and you will instantly see the quality production and acting that went into this film. Ian Curtis/Joy Division are portrayed with an eerily haunting accuracy (down to the instruments they play, which are rumoured to be the originals from the late 1970s) and you can tell that the cast really did their homework.

The concert scenes are spectacularly energetic, the sets (especially the Hacienda) are ripped right out of the time period. Comic relief isn't overlooked, as the dry humour of Steve Coogan and the rest of the cast is pursued to the dime. The unscripted dialogue is also quite good, which is another indication of the actors' homework. This movie is worth the time: it details a very important time and place in pop music history that is often overlooked in the wake of much larger, more commercialized scenes. Rave and post-punk may be fading today, but one need only take a look at the charts to see its influence. Go out and get this movie, learn a little about it, and you will be impressed. 57 of 69 people found this review helpful. Was this review helpful to you? Yes 24 Hour Party People (Film) - TV Tropes 24 Hour Party People You need to login to do this. Get Known if you don't have an account Share Film / 24 Hour Party People × WMG "You're going to see a lot more of that sort of thing in the picture. I don't want to say too much, don't want to spoil it.

I'll just say one word: 'Icarus'. If you get it, great. If you don't, that's fine too. But you should probably read more." — Tony Wilson 24 Hour Party People is a 2002 British Biopic telling the story of Tony Wilson (played by Steve Coogan ), a local news reporter who attends a pivotal gig by The Sex Pistols in the 1970s which changes his life. Believing he is living in "one of the most important fucking times in human history", he decides to start a record company called Factory Records and a club, The Hacienda. He also decides to Break The Fourth Wall and converse with the audience a lot, because it's that sort of film. The film follows Tony and Factory Records as money is lost, Joy Division (one of Factory's first signings) lead singer Ian Curtis commits suicide, Record Producer Martin Hannett goes insane and tries to kill Tony, the birth of "Madchester" music and rave culture, The Happy Mondays sell their equipment and studio for crack and then attempt to hold back their new album from Factory for ransom... You wouldn't get this kinda stuff in a film about EMI.

The film focuses largely on two of Factory's most popular artists, Joy Division (and their later reformation as New Order ) and Happy Mondays , although it also features A Certain Ratio and Durutti Column to a lesser extent. Not to be confused with the trope 24 Hour Party People (which is named after the Happy Mondays song that also gives this movie its name ) about background extras who show up at parties for or thrown by a work's main characters. Tropes: Addiction Displacement : While recording Yes Please!, Happy Mondays replace their crippling heroin addictions with more crippling crack addictions. Biopic : Unlike most biopics, it is not solely dedicated to a single person, but to a whole music scene and, in more general terms, considered to be a love letter to Manchester. Chandler's Law : Tony talking about the last time he saw Martin prior to the recording of Bummed. Martin showed up at his flat and fired at Tony with blanks. When Happy Mondays hold Yes Please! hostage, Shaun makes his negotiation introduction by shooting at Tony and the staff. Comically Small Bribe : Tony pulls 50 quid out of his wallet in order to convice Shaun to give the Yes Please! masters to him.

Shaun accepts. Country Matters : Ian Curtis' first line in the movie is, "Wilson, you fucking cunt!" Later, Rob Gretton also calls him the C-word. Creator Killer : In-Universe , the financial failure of the Hacienda, as well as the record that all but kills Factory, Yes Please! , are touched upon. Dead Artists Are Better : Of a sort; the movie focuses heavily on Joy Division for the first half, but after Ian Curtis' suicide (and the subsequent reforming of the band into New Order ), it goes on to show New Order's subsequent massive success with "Blue Monday", the best selling 12-inch single of all time. The focus then shifts from New Order to the Happy Mondays, although this largely was because the Happy Mondays had the more entertaining meltdown. Deadpan Snarker : Rob Gretton, manager of Joy Division / New Order, is depicted as an incredibly snarky individual, especially towards Tony. Demoted to Extra : The other members of Joy Division that became New Order . New Order guitarist/keyboardist Gillian Gilbert gets it worse and only appears twice, briefly and in non-speaking parts. Dissonant Serenity See Chandler's Law above. Tony is more bemused than anything else.

Dude, Where's My Respect? : Tony Wilson is dissatisfied with his career in TV journalism because he keeps getting assigned silly lifestyle pieces. First-Person Peripheral Narrator : Tony, the narrator, points out in one of his discussions how details of his own life are being glossed over, and while taking time to explain this, he notes that the story isn't about him but the music and Manchester . Tony Wilson: I'm a minor character in my own story. A God Am I : Of a sort; while smoking a joint after the last gig at the Hacienda, Tony sees a vision of God... who just happens to look exactly like Tony Wilson. When Tony rejoins his mates and tells them this, they are less than impressed. Tony Wilson: It says so in The Bible , though, doesn't it? 'God made man in His own image'. Rob Gretton: Yeah, but not a specific man. Icarus Allusion : The very first scene of the movie is a local news report involving Tony trying out a hang-glider... Then turning to the camera and delivering the page quote.

He later brings it up again, less directly: Tony Wilson: It was like being on a fantastic fairground ride, centrifugal forces throwing us wider and wider. But it's all right, because there's this brilliant machine at the center that's going to bring us back down to earth. That was Manchester. That is the Hacienda. Now imagine the machine breaks. For a while, it's even better, because you're really flying. But then, you fall. Because nobody beats gravity. The Last DJ : Tony Wilson, for all his ego and faults, is portrayed as something like this; he refuses to sell out his beliefs and the other characters, so while they routinely mock him for other things, they nevertheless respect him because of this. It builds to a climax where, facing financial ruin, Factory Records is forced to sell their assets to the London-based London Records , but it's discovered that there isn't actually anything for them to sell: Tony Wilson: Factory Records are not actually a company. We are an experiment in human nature. You're labouring under the misapprehension that we actually have a deal with, er, with our, our bands.

That we have any kind of a contract, er, at all, and I'm afraid we, er, we don't because that's, er, that's the sum total of the paperwork to do with Factory Records, deal with, er, their various bands... I have protected myself from ever having to sell out by having nothing to sell out. Roger Ames: Tony... You're fucking mad. Tony Wilson: Well, that is a point of view. In Real Life , Tony had declared that one of Factory Records' fundamental policies was that "All our bands are free to fuck off whenever they please." Oh Crap! : Tony and the other Factory Records employees' reaction to hearing Yes Please! for the first time, and the realization that Happy Mondays were too drugged out to write lyrics meaning that Factory spent untold amounts of money on a record consisting of instrumentals. No Animals Were Harmed : Tony Wilson goes out of his way in his narration to the audience to mention that no animals were harmed at the conclusion of a scene involving Shaun and Paul Ryder killing 3,000 pigeons with poisoned bread crumbs. Tony Wilson: ...Although there are those who say they're pests, rats with wings.

No Fourth Wall : Wilson is aware he's in a film of his life, and frequently comments on the events and puts them into context. It gets to the point where he stops the film to point out the various cameos in the movie, including one from a scene that didn't even make it into the finished film. Tony Wilson: I'm sure it'll be on the DVD. Unwitting Instigator of Doom : Happy Mondays . Very Loosely Based on a True Story : Yes, a lot of the events in the movie happened, but several are intentionally exaggerated to make the movie more entertaining. For instance, Martin Hannett never tried to shoot Tonynote Instead he shot a gun into a phone with Rob Gretton on the other line.

In another scene, Tony's wife Lindsay has sex with Magazine singer Howard Devoto (after catching Tony cheating on her); the film Tony (and in the DVD commentary, the real Tony) states that the story never happened, and the real Howard Devoto makes a cameo in the scene as a janitor, only to break the fourth wall and tell the audience "I definitely don't remember this." What Might Have Been : An in-universe example at the end of the film - "You should have signed The Smiths ." Wisdom from the Gutter : Tony Wilson gets a pep talk from a bum on the street who claims to be the philosopher Boethius. :: Indexes :: Audience Reviews for 24 Hour Party People ½ While I have yet to check out his entire canon, Michael Winterbottom continues to impress me time and time again. Oddly enough, even though I am never floored by any of his films, I always get excited when I see his name attached to one. I think it is because every time I sit down with one of his movies, I am given a completely unique experience. 24 Hour Party People is no exception & in many ways may be one of his most delightfully bizarre outings.

In 24 Hour Party People, Winterbottom takes the viewer into the heart of the Manchester music scene of the late 80s. Not only that, but he does so through the eyes of the bumbling egomaniacal proprietor of Factory Records Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan). It feels like the film equivalent of a Vonnegut novel. The fourth wall is constantly broken & the story is built around sizable chunks of truth, bits of legend, sci-fi, rumors, and just flat out lies. Coogan's performance is terrific. Nailing the comedic bits but also infusing the role with a near psychopathic narcissism that is an absolute treat to watch. He character is always equipped with an amazing retort. After being chastised for getting tickets printed too late and therefore not being able to sell them all in time for an upcoming event, Coogan dryly but convincingly replies, "They didn't sell tickets to the Sermon on the Mount. People just turned up because they knew it was a good gig." In my opinion, Coogan and Winterbottom can do no wrong. Especially when they work together. Don't believe me? Then check out Exhibit A: 24 Hour Party People.

Reid Volk Super Reviewer 24 Hour Party People is the story of Factory Records, a defiantly eccentric independent record label based in Manchester, England, which discovered acts as influential and diverse as Joy Division and the Happy Mondays. The film is shot in mock-documentary style and narrated by Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), the founder of Factory. Coogan portrays Wilson's double life as music svengali and cheesy local TV reporter to brilliant comic effect. Although Brits will draw the inevitable parallels between Coogan's Wilson and his ultra-naff TV persona, Alan Partridge, Coogan actually has Wilson off to a tee. Arrogant and pompous, Cambridge-educated Wilson is master of the pseudish sound bite (when he realises they have no tickets for a concert in his nightclub, he retorts `Did they have tickets for the Sermon on the Mount? Of course they didn't, people just turned up because they knew it would be a great gig'). But he also has a perceptive eye for the zeitgeist and his vision to create the Hacienda club transformed Manchester into Madchester, for a brief time the music capital of the world.

The story really starts with an early Sex Pistols gig in Manchester, attended by only 42 people, most of whom went on to have an influence on the Manchester music scene of the next 10 years. Wilson was in the audience, together with members of the band who went on to form the brilliant post-punk pioneers Joy Division. The first part of the film is really focussed on them and their manager, the aggressive and cantankerous Rob Gretton ( played by Paddy Considine), and their producer, the irascible acid-casualty Martin Hannett (another superb cameo by Andy Serkis) - both of whom are no longer alive. Joy Division's lead singer, Ian Curtis, is portrayed so accurately by Sean Harris that it's positively eerie, and the scenes of the band playing in rundown venues seem remarkably true to life and capture effectively the rawness and intensity of their live performances. The film also deals, rather insensitively, with the death of Curtis, who's feet we see swinging after he has strung himself up on a rope in his house.

This segues uncomfortably into a town crier announcing his death to the world, and ends with scenes showing Curtis's body in a coffin at the crematorium. From then on, the story continues with Joy Division's reincarnation as New Order and the building of the Hacienda nightclub, and the sometimes disastrous business decisions made by Wilson and Factory. When New Order released Blue Monday, the record sleeve was so expensive to produce they lost money on every copy sold. The single went on to become the biggest-selling 12' of all time, paradoxically crippling Factory in the process. The first nights at the Hacienda were also calamitous, with bands playing in front of single-figure audiences. Eventually however, the druggy indie dance kings Happy Mondays arrived on the scene, and acid house was born. Suddenly the Hacienda was the place to be and the Madchester rave scene became famous all over the world. The scenes of drugs-and-sex-excess on the Monday's tour bus and the re-creation of the Hacienda club nights are superbly portrayed.

The final part of the film tells how gang violence led to the closure of the club and the drug-riddled misadventures of the Mondays, especially their singer Shaun Ryder, led to their downfall and had severe financial implications for Factory Records (Wilson had inexplicably sent them to Barbados to record their last Factory album). Eventually, Factory was sold, lock, stock and barrel, to another label (who were perturbed to find Wilson had not signed any contracts with any of the Factory bands, effectively giving the artists total creative freedom). 24 Hour Party People is a real rollercoaster ride. There are some brilliant acting performances, punctuated by cameos from real members of the Manchester music scene (such as Howard Devoto and Mark E. Smith). The merging of legend and reality may make it difficult for people unfamiliar with events to work out what actually happened. But this is no accurate, austere documentary, but a touching, sometimes surreal, and often very, very funny, anarchic portrayal of a time and a place and it's music. Oh, and of course, the soundtrack is fantastic. Cassandra Maples Super Reviewer Brilliant film.

Sharp and clever, lively and irreverent, Steve Coogan's break-out film portrays the Madchester scene, very specifically 1976-1992, when a new music was freeing the city and the nation around it. Watching this, it was so authentic I was sure that it was older. There's a special feature on the DVD where one of the actors talks about various films being "[city name]: The Movie" (e.g. Trainspotting = Edinburgh: The Movie). This is Manchester. But on top of its ability to capture a moment, we have a love letter to New Wave music and a biopic that's definitely outside the box. In the narrator's words, "I'm a minor character in my own story." Creative, fun and dramatic movie, perhaps one of the most relevant in recent British film history. Daniel Perry Super Reviewer Michael Winterbottom is always doing something interesting with his films- even though most of the time it never works, his ambition is remarkable. With his metafilm, "24 Hour Party People", he delves into the history of new wave 80s punk in Manchester England.

While the film is visually inventive and colorful and the performances are vibrant, he never goes deep enough into the places that would really flesh out the story. Steven Carrier 24 Hour Party People - Laemmle.com NO LONGER PLAYING 24 Hour Party People 24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE is part of our THROWBACK THURSDAY series in partnership with EAT | SEE | HEAR . Click here for upcoming screenings. Prior to seeing Zac Ephron as an EDM DJ in We are Your Friends, treat yourself to Michael Winterbottom’s funny, galvanizing recreation of the scene where it all began, Manchester from the 1970's to early 1990's. Tony Wilson (a terrific Steve Coogan, in the role that introduced him to U.S. audiences) is an ambitious but frustrated local TV news reporter looking for a way to make his mark. After witnessing a life-changing concert by an unknown band called the Sex Pistols, he persuades his station to televise one of their performances, and soon Manchester's punk groups are clamoring for him to manage them.

Riding the wave of a musical revolution, Wilson and his friends create the legendary Factory Records and the Hacienda Club, and bands like Joy Division, New Order, and the Happy Mondays emerge to change the industry forever. Played at Genre: Bio-pic, Comedy, Drama, Music Runtime: 117 min Cast: Andy Serkis, John Thomson, Lennie James, Paul Popplewell, Steve Coogan Awards: 24 Hour Party People (2002) — Art of the Title More 1982. Manchester. A pulsing beat and a slap on the back. The Haçienda opens its doors. In Michael Winterbottom’s 2002 film 24 Hour Party People ( FAC 401 ), we follow Tony “Mr. Manchester” Wilson (played by Steve Coogan) as he tells the story of the Factory Records label and the infamous nightclub it spawned. We are given a glimpse into a time when bassline and rhythm ruled this Northern England town. A vibrant amalgam of alternative rock, burgeoning electronic music, and psychedelia burst forth with a colour and energy not previously heard or seen.

In stepped Factory Records and The Happy Mondays, New Order, the Stone Roses, Inspiral Carpets, Northside, 808 State, James, A Guy Called Gerald, hot off the intensity of punk politics, reflecting the American house music scenes, and outright rejecting London as the centre of the universe. There are a handful of parts to any movement, and one of them is always the look. The graphic elements that reify the scene and turn it into physical art, into objects and apparel to have and to hold, to look back on with fondness. Factory Records had several designers up their sleeve including Peter Saville, 8vo, Mark Farrow, and Central Station Design. Where Saville, 8vo, and Farrow favoured a cleaner, more precise aesthetic, Central Station leapt into the fray with manic energy and bold swaths of colour, their fingerprints embedded in each album cover and poster, each piece imbued with the feeling of something alive and exuberant. In the story of Factory Records and the Madchester movement there was the music, the place, the people, but the art became the vehicle with which fans could place a palm upon the time period and say: we were there.

And we’ve got the 12” to prove it. A discussion with PAT CARROLL, KAREN JACKSON, and SAM CARROLL of Central Station . Tell us a little about yourselves and Central Station. View 4 images Album artwork designed by Central Station for bands Happy Mondays and Black Grape Pat: Central Station has evolved over time, from our work in the ’80s and ’90s with Factory Records, Happy Mondays, Black Grape, and Nicolas Hytner, to the most recent chapter, operating under “Central Station Art” with our son Sam, working with Revolution Films and Michael Winterbottom on all their titles and graphics, various TV titles, music videos and new art. Karen: We have been lucky enough to collaborate with some great people along the way, all whilst trying to contribute something to the culture. Sam: The company has provided a vehicle for us to explore ideas, love, art, family. It's hard to talk about ourselves separately from the work. How would you describe Central Station's style? Sam: “Sophisticated Punk.” Karen: That said, if it's commissioned design work, we always try to synthesise the client’s vision through the lens of our tastes and influences.

Clip from the documentary TV series Celebration: Madchester – Sound of the North (1990) produced by Granada Television featuring Matt Carroll, Pat Carroll, and Karen Jackson. Watch it on YouTube . Tony Wilson has been quoted as saying: “The second half of the Factory story is best summed up by the painterly eccentricity of Central Station, Matt, Pat and Karen.” Is this true? How do you feel about this? Pat: We'd like to think so! If Tony said it, it must be true. To be considered as summing up any part of something as culturally significant as Factory Records... you can only feel proud about that. Tony Wilson , Factory Records manager, with the Happy Mondays Bummed poster in 2005. Photo © Richard Bellia. Karen: We loved Tony. He always fought in our corner and if anyone questioned the value and importance of the cover art, he used to say, "Does the Catholic church pour its wine into mouldy earthenware pots? I think not." How did you come to work on 24 Hour Party People? Karen: The first meeting was with Mark Tildesley, the production designer, and he filled us in on the project.

Pat: I think our reputation preceded us and the main reason for the meeting was to check we weren't mad before we met Michael, the director. Since then Mark has become a good mate and went on to do us all proud with his work on the Opening Ceremony for the London Olympics with Danny Boyle. See photos from the 2012 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony here , and watch a video of Suttirat Larlarb and Mark Tildesley describing their work with director Danny Boyle here . What was your first meeting like with Michael Winterbottom? Karen: We met Michael in the bar at the Palace Hotel in Manchester, where all the crew were based during shooting. Pat: When we turned up he was still auditioning prostitutes for the scene in the back of Peter Kay's van! We got on really well and chatted all night about the Manchester music scene. So how did you begin, with 24 Hour Party People? What was your process for creating this title sequence and the graphics? Karen: Well, initially there wasn't going to be a title sequence. Pat: So we suggested that we could do the main titles – even though at the time we had no experience – just pure passion and love for the artform.

Initial typographic logo treatment for 24 Hour Party People Sam: Sometimes you have to create a job and pull up your own chair. Moving image to us was an opportunity to extend our comfort zone beyond 2D design – towards creating 24 pieces of artwork a second. Karen: Michael said, “Go on, then – do me a 13-second leader that will slip into the film.” So we did the leader, but in a moment of madness we decided to stick our necks out! We put together a costly 4-minute main titles pitch – to the Happy Mondays track “24 Hour Party People” – knowing full well there was a big chance we were wasting our time. Pat: We raided our Factory Records archives for old footage and imagery that we had collected from that time, transferred it all to 35mm, spliced it up into an all-killer-no-filler edit and got painting. Karen: We thought it should be an art piece – hand-painted, organic, human, emotive. We just believed that when they saw it, they’d change their minds! When they came up with the idea of painting directly on to the 35mm film, it sounded brilliant but mad to us.

—Andrew Eaton (Producer, Revolution Films) View 3 images Original storyboards that established the direction for the three main elements: Type style and colour, painterly treatment for the logo and title, and a vivid technicolour landscape for all of the elements to live in. Pat: It was a buzz hearing Michael and Andrew's messages on the answer machine after they'd seen it. Michael loved it and laughed. He said, “That’s great, but now can you remake it with our footage and incorporate all the credits?” Karen: After a brief moment of high-fives, we were suddenly struck with the realities of the analogue, hand-made approach we'd established in the pitch. Original 24 Hour Party People film poster designed by Central Station Sam: The job grew from the 13-second leader into a 1 minute 45 second full title sequence, around 20 intertitles or captions, a series of end title dedications, the animated colour background for the end roller and trailer – oh yeah, and the film poster! Pat: We met with Michael and looked through everything that had been shot for the film. He supplied us with the original 35mm sections we chose to paint, fuck up, process and potentially destroy...

We would work painstakingly for weeks, painting frame by frame, night after night, making sure we made no errors, no typos, and trying to imagine what it would look like animated – something no one in their right mind would do! Karen: The only digital fingerprint on any of our elements for 24 Hour Party People was during the editing stage – after transferring our processed film footage. What were some of your influences or references? Sam: A lot of the reference material was actually life experience. Shaun Ryder is the lead singer of the Happy Mondays and Black Grape, and Mark Berry AKA "Bez" is a British dancer and percussionist. He was a member of the bands Happy Mondays and Black Grape. Pat: Yeah, definitely… It was a pretty crazy time, and we were in the thick of it. We used to live in a house with Shaun Ryder and Bez.

We'd go and put in a day’s shift at the studio till midnight, then meet back up with the crew at The Haçienda, ending up at houseparties at The Kitchen in Hulme , shebeens in Moss Side or illegal raves in the middle of nowhere – where we'd often bump into the likes of Bernard Sumner and Ian Brown , sometimes going straight back to work in the morning. Shebeen is a term that originated in Ireland and referred to an illicit bar or club where alcoholic beverages were sold without a license. The term has spread far from its origins in Ireland, to Scotland, Canada, the United States, England, Zimbabwe, and other countries. The word derives from the Irish síbín, meaning 'illicit whiskey'. Karen: Also because we were partly responsible for creating the aesthetic and colour palette of the time – working on the film was a case of rejuvenating and recontextualizing the style we’d become recognised for. Sam: This is where lack of experience comes in as well – we didn’t know what we were doing and everything was new. Sometimes being unaware of the rules and technicalities can bring about a radical approach. You have to play to your strengths and figure out a process that works for you.

Were there concerns about legibility and the length of screen time for each name? How did you navigate that? Sam: There was an edge and attitude to everything – no one gave a shit. Worrying about card length and legibility wouldn't have been in the spirit of the film. Karen: Luckily Michael and Andrew agreed! Band name interstitial graphics designed by Central Station Pat: The choices we made visually and typographically had to capture the frenetic, hedonistic, full-on energy of the time. Karen: There was an element of Factory and the scene that always felt like a runaway train – no driver, heading for a crash and could implode at any moment… Hopefully the tripped-out, pulsing, and dancing type – which we purposely painted to burn in and out of legibility – catches that vibe. In the movie, Tony Wilson's character says that his heroic flaw is his excess of civic pride for Manchester. It seems like something that has been important to your work as well. What has Manchester meant for your work? Pat: Manchester is a permanent character in our work and has played an important role in shaping who we are. Sam: We still live and work in Manchester.

Every time we get home from being away for a while, we are always hit by how underestimated familiarity is. You go on autopilot, you know every nook and cranny. It frees you up to observe, take in the great architecture and watch the world go by. Manchester is big enough to have a lot of stuff going on, yet small enough that you see the same people and eventually get to know everyone… So when you’re looking to start something and find like-minded people there’s an instant connection, a shorthand – no nonsense. You just can get on with making stuff. Madchester logo by Central Station Design. Available as a silkscreen print through Richard Goodall Gallery . Pat: When we first set up Central Station, Manchester was quite a monochrome, oppressive, industrial place, suffering from years of neglect. It was a ghost town in the centre after 6pm. We all wanted to turn the lights on and re-paint the city with a new technicolour landscape. Within our small nucleus of mates we all had something to say, were opinionated in our own worlds and were gonna find a way of getting ourselves heard.

And backing up what Sam said – everyone influenced, inspired and fed off each other, and went on to start bands like Happy Mondays, Stone Roses, New Order, various companies, clothing lines – we even set up Gio-Goi with Anthony and Chris Donnelly, which went on to become a big streetwear brand in the UK. Read about Anthony and Chris Donnelly in The Independent's feature article Rough Trade: How two brothers rose from gangsterland to create the fashion brand Gio-Goi, worth £40m (then promptly lost the lot) Karen: At some point you need an incubator and a home for all this energy, which for us became Factory Records, Dry Bar and The Haçienda. Tony Wilson articulated the value of this energy, people like Kevin Cummins photographed and documented it, the bands soundtracked it, and we tried to paint it. The city has contributed a lot to our work and we hope we have contributed to the city. Pat, you studied graphic design in the late ’70s. How do you think graphic design has changed? Pat: Well, apart from the ridiculous fact that we used to deliver finished artwork on CS10 – basically very thick cardboard, coated with china clay – not much really!

CS10 was a thick paper stock which featured a kaolinite or china clay top-coat which allowed erasure with a scalpel and redrawing without bleed. The outlets for design have increased. You have to consider social media, blogs, video, online and print advertising, apps and games… but more important is the commitment to the daily maintenance of all these demands and keeping people’s attention. When we were working with Factory, you were pretty much good to go with a logo, album cover and a poster. Sam: Now you can look at everything ever done by anyone – it makes you realise that all the mad, cutting edge ideas you’re coming up with have already been done by somebody in 1930! In 2008, you did an exhibition entitled Faç Off, which was a retrospective of your work, at the Richard Goodall Gallery, right? View 6 images Photos from Central Station's Faç Off exhibition at Richard Goodall Gallery, 2008. Logotype design by Central Station. Photos © Karin Albinsson . Pat: Right.

Faç Off was a 25 year retrospective of Central Station which featured artwork from our Factory Records days, various fine art paintings and portraits of TV and radio personalities like Tommy Cooper, Ken Dodd, and Kenneth Williams. What has it been like working with Michael Winterbottom? You've worked with him for years, right? Karen: Our relationship with Michael is now moving into its 15th year! We have worked on all of Michael's titles and graphics since 24 Hour Party People. He's very prolific and always makes films with interesting, challenging and sometimes controversial subject matter, which is inspiring for us as interpreters of his vision. Sam: I reckon we have worked together on about 16 projects so far... Pat: It's pretty mad – some of our most productive work has been a result of long-term collaborations, building a trust and almost family-like set up. You can experiment more and push the boundaries with each other. And how did all of your Coronation Street work come about? The paintings of the cast? Karen: At the opening launch party [for Faç Off] there were a few Coronation Street cast and crew members. They asked us if we would be up for collaborating on their 50th anniversary.

We definitely wanted to be involved in the celebration of something so iconic and successful that we grew up on. Sam: Inspired by our love of the handpainted film posters from the golden age of Hollywood and Bollywood and Indian street graphics, we decided to paint a series of portraits of the colourful characters that have graced the cobbles over the years. Painted portraits by Central Station of Coronation Street characters You've also done a number of other title sequence projects, including for the Cracker TV movie, and the films The Look of Love and The Killer Inside Me. Karen: Right. It turned out that the director of Cracker, Antonia Bird , was into our work. She first approached us to work on a drama about the rehabilitation of drug users. This was the beginning of another great working relationship. Pat: Not only was she a great director, she was also one of the most generous and beautiful people we have ever met. Sam: Cracker was always filmed in Manchester and one of our favourite pubs became Robbie Coltrane's local during shooting. We used to see him in there all the time, even before we started working on it.

We’ve been fortunate enough to work on a lot of great projects: Prime Suspect, A Mighty Heart, Code 46, A Cock and Bull Story, The Trip... But obviously our personal favourites are the title sequences where we have been able to go to town – create a visual narrative that transports you into the environment, atmosphere, time period, colour palette and mindset of the film. Pat: The Killer Inside Me and The Look Of Love are two sequences that we feel exemplify this. The Killer Inside Me (2010) – main title sequence designed by Central Station Karen: For The Killer Inside Me we tried to create our own contemporary take on ’50s title sequences. Sam: The Look of Love focuses on the personal life, relationships and family turmoil of Paul Raymond, played by Steve Coogan. The titles were originally going to be still white cards intercut throughout the opening funeral scene of Paul's daughter. However, Michael wasn't sure if this was the best way to introduce the film and the man who opened the UK's first strip club, launched the best-selling soft porn magazine Men Only, and was dubbed the "King of Soho" after his wholesale real-estate purchases, ending his days as Britain's richest man.

Michael asked us if we had any ideas or suggestions… so we went about creating an opening 3 minute film-within-a-film and various montages that would bring this eccentric, wild and colourful world to life. The Look of Love (2013) – main title sequence designed by Central Station Have you seen the film Enter the Void ? Its title sequence bears some similarities to the one for 24 Hour Party People – its credits are flashed in bright colours, on the edge of legibility. Sam: Those titles are brilliant! Perfect set-up for the storyline… really captures the sensory overload that is Tokyo after dark – albeit through an acid-fuelled filter – throbbing along to the sounds of Thomas Bangalter. Karen: It has a similar spirit and energy. Sam mentioned how we approach moving image with the idea of creating 24 pieces of art a second – Enter the Void seems to do the same thing. Sam: Love the climactic build, where by the final cards he has created multiple standalone logos and animated them into a fantastic frenzy of kaleidoscopic typography… we would probably get on really well! What are some of your personal favourite title sequences, whether classic or contemporary?

Pat: For us you have to start with the godfather of the modern title sequence, Saul Bass . In every industry there are trailblazers whose work speaks to you and lights the blue touchpaper for your imagination – inspiring you to want be a part of that world. Touchpaper is paper that has been soaked in saltpeter and used for firing gunpowder. To "light the blue touchpaper" is a British expression meaning to do something that causes anger or excitement. Sam: We could pretty much list every film he worked on as a favourite, but we have to mention Anatomy of a Murder , Vertigo , Seconds , Psycho , The Man With The Golden Arm , and North By Northwest . Karen: Right through to his last contribution to cinema, Casino . Sam: Recently we were watching the great titles by Patrick Clair for True Detective , which also reminded us of one of our favourite sequences by Robert Brownjohn – Goldfinger . We all love From Russia With Love as well. Karen: It doesn't get much better than The Thomas Crown Affair ! Introducing the multi-screen effect for the first time in any motion picture and defining the cinematic style of the late ’60s…For Pablo Ferro to follow this up with Bullitt – genius!

Pat: The humorous, disturbingly ordinary titles for Dexter were a stand-out. Karen: We love all of Jean-Luc Godard’s stuff – especially Une Femme est Une Femme . Sam: Iginio Lardani changed the game with his work on on A Fistful of Dollars but our personal favourite is Faccia A Faccia. Faccia A Faccia (1967) title sequence designed by Iginio Lardani And what are you working on now? What does the future hold for Central Station? Sam: There's no better feeling than making something from nothing – that process of staring at a blank screen, page or canvas and entering another dimension – only to come out the other side with something you are proud of… but the best thing is when you can share that journey with the people you care about most on this planet… with no egos, no bullshit and no arguments about money or who did what. Pat: What Sam said! It's probably the reason we can come up with a lot of ideas so quickly – we can focus on the big picture and all pull in the same direction. Karen: So, more of the same!

Hopefully we can keep finding kindred spirits that we can share this journey with. Portraits of Central Station in their studio in 1989 (left) and at their Coronation Street 50th Anniversary exhibition in 2010 (right). In the left photo, clockwise from top: Pat Carroll, Karen Jackson, Sam Carroll, and Matt Carroll.

Main Titles, Captions and Credits Designed and Produced by: Central Station Technicolour "24 Hour Party People (Jon Carter Mix)" Written by Shaun Ryder, Paul Ryder, Mark Day, Paul Davis, Gary Whelan Performed by: Happy Mondays End Title Graphics and Dedications: Central Station Technicolour Obituary: Tony Wilson | Media | The Guardian The Guardian Sunday 12 August 2007 19.19 EDT First published on Sunday 12 August 2007 19.19 EDT Share on Messenger Close If you lived in the north-west at any time after 1973, it was impossible to ignore the indefatigable broadcaster, music mogul, social activist, proud northerner, football fan, writer and exhibitionist Tony Wilson, who has died aged 57 of a heart attack after being diagnosed with cancer earlier this year. For years, he was known as plain Tony Wilson, both as an extremely opinionated, populist Granada television presenter and as an idiosyncratic Manchester music impresario who dedicated his life to making the city internationally famous for its music, nightlife and pop culture.

From the moment he appeared on television, and especially after he combined his daily Granada duties with his antics as self-appointed ringleader of the Manchester music business, he was someone you loved, or hated, or loved and hated at the same time. In the 1990s, typically writing his own history as he went along, he made it clear he preferred to be known as Anthony H Wilson. The pompous self-publicist part of him, enjoying the fact that the bigger name sounded grander and would take up more space, announced that this was because he wanted "to wind up all the people in Manchester who think I'm a flash cunt". The more reflective Wilson admitted to me that: "I never liked Tony. I was always Anthony to my mum. I just wanted to be Anthony again." Wilson was born in Salford, Lancashire. His German grandfather came to Salford in 1901, and his family ran three jewellers' shops before moving, when he was five, to the leafier Marple, near Stockport. His mother felt it would be a better place to bring him up, but he kept in contact with the grittier, more darkly romantic Salford.

After passing his 11-plus, Wilson won a place at the Catholic boys De La Salle grammar school in Salford. He developed a love of literature and language after he saw a performance of Hamlet at Stratford-upon-Avon. He felt, as someone who understood the accelerating importance of popular culture, that he was always in the right place at the right time. He was 13 "in the school playground when the Beatles happened" and he was studying English at Jesus College, Cambridge, "when the revolution in drugs happened". A flirtation with anarchic politics possibly contributed to his underperforming 2.2 degree, but certainly infected his unique, often haywire approach to life, work, art, music, family and business; the way he would take everything ridiculously seriously, and not seriously at all. After Cambridge, he began his career in journalism as a news reporter for Granada television. Granada was at the time one of the great northern institutions, and he found a home there, one that could, occasionally - only just - indulge his tendency for a naughtiness that in the bland context of a tea-time magazine show was almost dangerous.

With schoolboy long hair and a hippy/glam twist to his newsreading suit, he exploited his sweet side and became a teenybop hit and grandma's favourite. Many in the north never forgot when he was a cross between David Cassidy and David Frost, when he would be not so goodnaturedly booed as he arrived at rock concerts, and this contributed to suspicions later when he pursued more provocative activities. Wilson, though, quick to adopt new personas, and adapt to new circumstances, adored the attention, and shrewdly exploited his role as local minor celebrity when it came to what he was really interested in - helping Manchester to recreate itself as a major city, with its radical, inventive and progressive traditions intact. As a now respected mainstream broadcaster, in 1975 he accepted a job on the BBC's Nationwide magazine show. He was driving down to London to a new life when he had misgivings. A few miles outside the capital he rang his boss at Granada and asked if his old job was still open. It was. He turned back. He would never entertain the idea of leaving the north again.

The first sign of Wilson's interest in the counterculture and in radical ideas was when Granada allowed him to present his own What's On section of Granada Reports. This covered the local arts and music scene, and in 1976 it turned into his own pop music show, So It Goes. His suit replaced by a leather jacket, his hair still heart-throb long, the overeager Wilson looked out of place, as he did as one of the 40 or so people who turned up to see the Sex Pistols play at the Lesser Free Trade Hall in June 1976. Everyone in the audience was inspired by this incendiary performance to react in some creative way. Many formed bands - Buzzcocks, Magazine, Fall, Smiths, Simply Red, Joy Division members were all present. Others became designers, writers or took up roles in the music business. Wilson was galvanised by the event, by the combination of anarchy and music, philosophy and pop, danger and delight, image and protest, and it changed his life, as it did Manchester itself.

He immediately invited the Sex Pistols on to the second and final series of So It Goes, which was never shown in more than three ITV regions. Taking pop culture seriously as a social and political force, it was ahead of its time. It still would be today. By 1978, still a grinning Granada personality, Wilson formally entered the music business by opening the Factory Club in Hulme to showcase new local music talent. Factory then became a record label. Wilson ran it with fellow northern Catholic grammar school boys, the designer Peter Saville, the producer Martin Hannett, actor and manager Alan Erasmus and Joy Division manager Rob Gretton. Inevitably the label was like no other; deeply northern, stubborn and disorganised, it released records with a reckless anarcho-capitalist verve and an indifference toward profit that verged on performance art. It became the great Manchester label despite not signing Buzzcocks, Magazine, The Smiths, The Fall or The Stone Roses. What it did have was Wilson, part glib newsreader, part cultural curator, part exuberant nuisance, part revolutionary warrior, inspiring, or needling, those around him.

The subversive Factory Records became the link between Manchester's reforming radical past, the Sex Pistols' legendary performance and the new modernised Manchester that Wilson had in mind. Factory's best-known group, Joy Division, became New Order after the 1980 suicide of singer Ian Curtis. Wilson fed off even this dark energy, confirming the views of those doubting his motives. He blithely carried on with his great plan. With Joy Division/New Order money, Factory "gave back to the community" by opening the Hacienda Club in a textile showroom turned yacht salesroom. Beautifully and wittily designed by Ben Kelly, it looked like something you found only in New York, and anticipated a new, bold 21st-century Manchester filled with canalside apartments and boutique hotels. After a shaky few years, by the mid 80s it found its function as a dance club importing experimental house music from Detroit and New York. Factory's Happy Mondays bound together the exotic new dance rhythms with a groggy Lancastrian verse, and in the movement known as Madchester was born the commercialisation of the abstract, agitating spirit of Factory, and the spirited postmodern skittishness of Wilson.

Wilson, as the self-appointed public face of the movement, became the tabloids' Mr Manchester, and enthusiastically presided as militant marketing mastermind over the transformation of the city into a global brand. Factory farcically collapsed in 1991 with debts of £2m. The Hacienda was eventually shut down in 1997 by order of the police after a frenetic decade of being the night-time home of hedonism and a magnet for thrill-seekers. Wilson was still a now slightly more weather-beaten Granada pin-up. He claimed to be the man who bought loft living to the city. He became increasingly vocal in his only slightly ironic call for regional self-government in the north-west, fancying himself as chairman of the north, to the horror of Liverpudlians. He was played by Steve Coogan in the 2002 film 24 Hour Party People, which represented his life as chaotic comedy and Wilson as daft Dada daredevil. He attempted new versions of Factory, endlessly curious for the next new thing, the next pop-culture revolution, but he never managed to follow his great innovations, Factory, or the Hacienda, or So It Goes.

The history he had written for himself as post-punk saviour of Manchester was too powerful to improve upon. He lived out his final months after having a cancerous kidney removed with typical restlessness, curiosity, anger, good humour and fearlessness. His enormous impact on his beloved Manchester over the last 35 years is undeniable. To some extent, even if he did say so himself, this compelling, unique hybrid of selfish visionary, TV hack, charming bully, generous tyrant, commissioning editor, playful philosopher, inconsistent genius and down-to-earth intellectual regenerated a declining city both economically and culturally. He was married twice, to Lindsay, and Hilary, who was the mother of his two children, Oliver and Isabel. In 1991, with his partner, Yvette Livesey, who also survives him, he set up the In The City Music Conference, another enterprising attempt to put Manchester on the world map. "I am the boss," joked Yvette.

"He's just the mouth." · Anthony Howard Wilson, record label boss, broadcaster and impresario, born February 20 1950; died August 10 2007 24 Hour Party People - Blue Monday - YouTube 24 Hour Party People - Blue Monday Want to watch this again later? Sign in to add this video to a playlist. Need to report the video? Sign in to report inappropriate content. Rating is available when the video has been rented. This feature is not available right now. Please try again later. Uploaded on May 28, 2007 John Simm, Ralf Little and Tim Horrocks perform Blue Monday as New Order in 24 Hour Party People. Split screen with Steve Coogan as Tony Wilson talking about the cost of the single's sleeve. Category

Question: Who played 'Tony Wilson' in the 202 film '24 Hour Party People'?
Answer: STEVE COOGAN